


dream

by Dresupi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Crushes, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Feels, Pining, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 00:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17477687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: It was all just a dream...





	dream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aenaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenaria/gifts).



> Conversation Heart Prompts 2018

Wanda could smell his aftershave… could practically feel the dampness of his skin, the smoothness of his upper lip…

So this was another dream, then. He hadn’t been clean-shaven in weeks.

She inhaled deeply, slowly opening her eyes.  

She noticed his lips first. The slight upturn in the right corner of his mouth as he chuckled.  "Wanda…" His voice rumbled.  She couldn’t allow herself to look up, to scan the entirety of his chiseled face. The features which could, often at once, appear both soft and hard, even though they were usually soft when he looked at her.  When he touched her.  

She could do with some hardness from him.  

No, that sounded wrong.  

But it was true, all the same.  

She longed to look into his eyes, but she knew once she did, she’d wake up and it would all be over. Dreams like this one were fleeting, and she wanted to take all she possibly could from it.

She licked her lips, tasting the chapstick she’d put on before bed.

There was little else in the room with them, just them. No corporeal walls or identifying features at all.  Just them.

His hands reached for hers, fingers seeking and lacing together. His hands were so much larger than her own, engulfing hers completely and yet… she didn’t feel small in his presence. Quite the contrary, in fact.

His thumb brushed over the back of her hand.  

“Wanda… look at me…” he murmured.  

She shook her head. “I can’t.”  

“Why?”  

“Because I’ll wake up.”  

He chuckled again, the sound sending bolts of sensation to the far reaches of her body. Her nerves sang out for him.  "Wouldn’t want that… not yet, anyway.“  

"No… I wouldn't…” she replied, fully aware that this dream was just that. That she wouldn’t wake up in his arms like she truly wished she could. She’d wake up in a cot in the room of the safe house where he’d brought her after the Raft.  

Clint would be on another cot in the corner of the room and Sam would be across the hall with Scott. And they’d all be giving her a wide berth because she hadn’t spoken in weeks. Not since she’d been carried out of that cell and laid down in the back of a quinjet.

Not since she’d thanked _him_ for saving her.  

“But you’re going to have to. Some time, Wanda,” he said.  

“I know, Steve…” she whispered.

“Just talk to me, okay?”  

“I am.”  

“No. Really talk to me…”  

Her desire to see him got the better of her and she looked up, tears spilling over her cheeks as she glimpsed the dark blue of his eyes gazing down at her.

“How can I?” she asked, his hands slipping from her as everything went dark.  "Steve? Steve?“  

She reached for him, her hands grasping something warm. Something soft.  Something…

Her eyes flew open, adjusting to the darkness and realizing just what (or who) she had clutched in her grasp.  "Steve?”  

“I’m here, Wanda…” he murmured. “I’m here… are you okay?”  

She nodded and allowed herself to be embraced.  "Yes, I am fine. I am fine…"  


End file.
